Page 12 of The Dark Elf's Secret Twins

“Shut up,” I say, laughing mockingly at her. “Why don’t you go do your job and quit bothering me?”

“Don’t think I don’t see you watching me from afar. I know what’s on your mind.”

“No you don’t, now get out of here before I report you for neglecting your duties.”

“Pft, whatever pervert,” she snaps. She continues walking to the refreshments table, refilling the supply of alcohol much to everyone’s delight.

Her attitude irked me to the point it caused an itch under my skin, yet I know she’s right. I really liked what I saw, I just didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. Then again, she supposedly has already caught me out.

I watch as she bends over to collect empty glasses. She has an ass like a somana, it makes me want to cry. As she’s bent over, she glances over her shoulder at me, catching me staring right at her.

Damn it, she did it on purpose, sneaky girl…

I turn, unable to help but laugh at my own misfortune. I decide to head to another area to refocus. Walking to the green room, I enter to see the beginnings of a foursome going on. Two topless girls were straddled over their male counterparts who had their trousers down. Everyone turns to me with guilt written all over their faces. The girls suddenly straighten themselves up, throwing on their clothes in a matter of seconds.

“You fucking filth,” I say angrily. “Le Lazurt’s staff are paid to clean up after your preparations and refreshments, not your fucking sex parties! Go do that shit elsewhere!”

One of the elves hides his face in shame but the other grows irate, seemingly pissed that I ruined his chance of getting off. He stands, scrambling to pull his trousers up before storming over to me. His skin is flushed and the stench of alcohol reeks form his breath.

“Do you know just how the fuck I am?” he yells.

“Quite frankly, I couldn’t give a rodan’s ass who you are. You’re not going to do this kind of shit in this building, end of story.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, pal?”

He unwisely sticks his grubby finger in my chest.

Bad move. My turn.

In a swift motion, I grab his hand and twist it, a loud, bone crunching snap ringing through the air. The chivdouyu yelps in pain as the others recoil in fright.

“My playing hand!”

I scruff his neck and march out the door, parading him through the backstage area as I escort him to the exit. Others gawk in disbelief and amusement before I throw him out the door.

“Don’t ever come back here again, even as a member of the audience. I’ll remember your face.”

Dusting my hands off, I turn to see the staff and other chivdouyu looking at me in astonishment. Some share impressed looks with each other. I spot Cyra gazing over at me, a rare look of admiration in her eyes. She quickly gets back to work as soon as she notices me looking.

Shaking it off, I get back to patrolling the backstage area. Some time passes as customers start filling up the seats. I hang near the bar where Cya gets to work making some drinks. I watch in awe at the way she moves her body, each movement graceful and wondrous, even more so than some of these so-called performers currently getting drunk.

She pours some alcohol and slices of fruit in a cocktail mixer, then begins shaking it. Her muscle tone is apparent now more than ever. I almost find myself jealous of the mixer, knowing just how good those hands feel on me.

I then glance to the customer area, singling out a large table reserved for important guests. Sitting there tonight is a famed miou known as Nasthyn. The sight of him irks me, knowing his notoriety isn’t at all deserved.

More of a glorified mapmaker than a true soldier,I think to myself.

I know for a fact he never went into any battles with me. Sitting with him are a posse of companions, listening to his every word and praising him as if they’re groupies trying to get into his pants. One of them is a dark elf called Zanath, whomst I remember being practically glued to Nasthyn’s side.

It’s rare to ever find Nasthyn’s ass clear of Zanath’s lips. I walk a little closer, still doing my job in surveying the area but also using my advanced hearing to eavesdrop into their conversation.

“You’ve earned this my good man,” sings Zanath. He stared at Nasthyn with such admiration he may as well have been undressing with his eyes. For all I know, he is.

“Well, it’s not easy having a position such as mine in the miou caste. It’s healthy even for the bravest of soldiers to relax every once in a while.”

“Absolutely, very well spoken sir!”

Gods… If only I could throw someone out just because they exist,I think as I glare at Zanath. In a way, he annoys me more than Nasthyn.

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